Adventures in Brewfest: Wolpertingers, Pachys, & Riding Rams (Oh My!)
Okay, something that needs to be known about me is that I’m not one of those girls that only drinks mixed drinks. I like beer. Quite a lot, actually. So any event entitled “brewfest” is absolutely going to peak my interest. And despite the fact that my person can’t necessarily enjoy the brew portion of brewfest, it is sooo much fun to let Elaelia enjoy brewfest.
Except. I’m not quite to the level to enjoy it completely. I’m working on attaining the Strange Brew achievement, but you have to be Level 65 to buy the last two beers that I need to consume.
So that’s in the works. Unfortunately, it’s going to be interrupted by 1) work and 2) the fact that I’m going home this weekend for the Arkansas vs. Alabama game. (Woo Pig Sooie! If your initials are NCH and you live on the West Coast in a location known as G-Unit, you can interpret that Hog Call as spitefully as you’d like.)
The other down side to Brewfest is that to do the dungeon with Corbin Coren Direbrew, you have to be Level 80. Or something higher than 62. Which is terrible since I desperately want a Riding Ram (I’m currently revered with Ironforge…), and if I could somehow procure the extra special Brewfest Riding Ram…well, that would be just fabulous.
But alas, it is impossible for me at this time. And furthermore, I should be content with what I have, right? Right.
Which then begs the question, what exactly do I have?
Well, dear reader, I have the following:
1. A WOLPERTINGER!!!!!!!
I got it! And I looooove this creepy little vampire-jackelope bunny thing.
2. A PINT-SIZED PINK PACHYDERM!!!!!!
Ever since @TradeChat told me about this little darling, I have yearned and pined and jonsed for it. And now I haz it! (Pachy is mine.) But it came with a certain degree of frustration. You see a pint-sized pink pachyderm costs this much:
Which was very confusing and frustrating and required me to practice patience (aka a virtue I don’t possess.) But now I have the adorable little ‘phant. She likes to trumpet. And she doesn’t run–she scurries. She might be my fave.